


History of Wrong Guys

by PaperThinRevolutionary (SingFortissimo)



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: A series of awful dating experiences, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breakups, Dating, Hookups, M/M, Online Dating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2018-11-23 02:53:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11393874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingFortissimo/pseuds/PaperThinRevolutionary
Summary: Everybody has their fair share of bad significant others and awful breakups. John Laurens is of the strong belief that his can be some for the books, though.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @lafbayette, @indimitible, and @philip_the_poet for letting me bounce ideas and offering help <3

It all began in high school.

Anything done in secret was damned to be bad, right off the bat, but John couldn’t help but jump into it with all his heart and then some. Father had no idea that:  
a) John was dating anybody  
b) John was dating _a boy_  
c) that John was even _into_ guys, and   
d) that John even _knew_ any queer boys. 

Father would have lost his mind if he knew any of these things. So John kept his relationship as secret as he possibly could. He was never the best at discretion, but by god he would tell himself that he was. And he would run with that mentality as far as he possibly could. 

So, there he was. Slipping through high school, dating his boyfriend in secret right under his father’s nose. How awesome was that? Father not knowing what was going on was working in his favor more than he would have expected, too. Willingly allowing the boy into his house without even the slightest inclination of what could be going on behind closed doors? 

Perfect. 

John knew this couldn’t last, though, there was no way that he could get away with this for as long as he would have liked to, but there was just something about this that was… Wow. The adrenaline of it all was spectacular, and his boyfriend, Francis Kinloch, someone he had known for quite some time, would always tease John that he had a bit of a voyeuristic streak about him for enjoying that as much as he did. 

John didn’t bother questioning that, didn’t think it was important to their relationship in the slightest, so he let Francis joke, let him enjoy the humor of it all. After all, what was the harm in that? 

So their time went by, secrets and all. They could be open enough at school around other students, nobody really knew or cared about what they were doing anyway, so nobody questioned it when they noticed how close and friendly the two boys were with one another. Nobody cared in the slightest about the connection that they had, and honestly, the closed-minded idiots John and Francis went to high school with? Well, they wouldn’t even think of it as any more than an incredibly close friendship. 

And that was exactly how John and Francis liked it to be. 

John wasn't sure why Francis was so secretive about everything; his family had moved from a rather liberal town up north, and they were incredibly open about everything. The relationship that Francis and his parents had together was open and loving, regardless of what was happening, and they didn’t mind one way or the other that their son was bisexual. 

They knew about John, _hell_ John practically _lived_ at their house after school. The two boys were joined at the hip whenever they could be, save for the weekends when Francis and his family would go off and do their thing, when Francis would have to go out of town, or when Father would enter one of his _moods_ , and practically forbid John from leaving the house, let alone from leaving his room. 

Yet still, Francis had never told his parents about his relationship with John, always citing some lame excuse as to why he felt the desire to keep it secret. 

But John didn’t care, no. 

John Laurens was in love with Francis Kinloch, so why would he let something so trivial get in the way of that? Besides, in his teenage mind, it made sense. Why should he question Francis keeping it secret? John was keeping it secret, too, so what did that matter? He decided it best to just let it be, and let a good thing _stay_ a good thing. 

Things were going great. John was sure that Francis was the one he would spend the rest of his life with, and he was ready for that the minute that he would be able to just run away with Francis, leave the shallow minds and homophobic remarks of Charleston behind as they went off to start anew. 

Francis would never really allow John to talk about all of this though, always shushing him with soft kisses or distractions when he would muse of their future together. 

“We don’t need to think about that right now, honey. Just enjoy the movie,” or “We’ll talk later, it’s alright.” 

And John just accepted it, took it for what it was and allowed himself to push those thoughts aside, because _damnit_ , he loved Francis. And Francis loved him, and that’s how it was. Everything was great, everything was going to work. 

John had convinced himself of this fact, and he would be damned if anything was going to get in his way and skew his perception of the future, because by god, they had promised. Francis wouldn’t just break those promises, no. 

It was coming up on their anniversary, two years together (sophomore and junior year), and John was eager to surprise his boyfriend with presents, an evening out, tickets to the movie they had both been wanting to see and maybe _something else_ , yet to have been determined, but John was open for however the night could possibly proceed. 

He got himself done up all nice, told his dad that he would be spending the night with Francis that evening, and took his car, an older model Honda Civic, out on the road. John sang along to the songs on the radio, eager for the events of the evening, knowing that Francis’ parents were going to be out for the weekend, meaning they would have the house and the time to themselves to celebrate however they desired.   
What a prospect. 

He pulled into the driveway, familiar and comforting, and grabbed his duffel bag from the passenger’s seat before getting out of the car. He hurried out of the car and nearly skipped up to the front door, rapped his knuckles against it and smiled brightly as he bounced on his heels. 

_Come on, Francis, hurry up…_

When the door swung open, John saw the last thing he expected to see: 

The girl who stood in the doorframe was a little shorter than him, short hair cut into a neat little bob framing a delicate heart-shaped face. Big, dark baby doe eyes met John’s own, and the girl cocked her head in confusion. “Can I help you?” 

“Oh. Um. I’m here for Francis.” John said softly, bit his lip and knit his brow. Something here was absolutely, decidedly _not right_. “Is he home..?” 

She nodded a little, trading the same confused and suspicious look with John. “Yeah, he is. Who are you..?” 

“John. Laurens.” He said quickly, feeling his throat tighten up and his mouth become dry as the worry really started to build. 

She nodded a little bit and hummed. “John Laurens. Alright then.” She turned away, calling back into the house. “Francis, hon, someone is here for you?” 

“Just a second, babe. Who’s there?” He could hear Francis call back, and John felt his heart drop into his stomach. 

_Babe?_

“John Laurens?” She responded, glancing back to the man in question, who had suddenly gone completely pale. “Is everything okay?” She asked him in a slightly hushed voice, quickly interrupted when Francis rushed back out, something almost afraid in his eyes. 

“John, holy shit, I didn’t know you were— Oh, fuck, I can explain—” Francis said rapidly, reaching out to John before he took a step back.

The girl looked back over to him, frowning just a little bit. “What do you have to explain?” She questioned the panicked teen, who was quickly looking between them as if developing a cover story on the spot. 

Had this really never crossed his mind? 

John puffed up a little bit, knit his brow. “You fucking cheat.” He hissed, voice wavering a little. “How long has this been going on?” 

“Francis, what the hell is he talking about?” The girl tried, but Francis put his hand on her shoulder. 

“Martha, don’t-”

“She doesn’t fucking know either? How long have you been doing this?” John snapped, eyes welling up.   
Martha looked between them, stepping away from Francis and a little closer to John. “What the hell is going on, Francis? Who is he?” She raised her voice just a little bit, watching the other man shrink. John did get some strange satisfaction from that, watching the two timing bastard submitting to the smaller girl.

“This is, um…” 

John was certain the poor girl didn't have any clue what was going on here, and he really did feel awful that she had to be involved in this, but… “I’m his fucking boyfriend.” John bit, shooting daggers at Francis. The look of astonishment on the girl’s face was enough to prove his worry. 

“ _Boyfriend_ huh? Care to explain?” She snipped at the other, who was backing further into the house. 

“Don’t even fucking bother, we’re through anyway. Fuck you, Francis.” John hissed, throwing one of the presents at him, a scrapbook of polaroid photos the couple had taken together since they met Freshman year. 

Francis tried to stop John as he stormed back to his car, in too much of a hurry to notice Martha storming off as well, and John drove off quickly, just far enough away from the house that Francis wouldn’t follow, before he completely broke down behind the wheel. 

_How could he have been so stupid?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usually John would have had some snide commentary about how the man dressed. Not many people would have the guts to go out in a magenta suit, but now that he thought about it, not many would be able to pull it off the way that Thomas was in that moment. _Wow_. 
> 
> And the way the suit hugged his frame? 
> 
> _**Wow.** _

It wasn’t his idea to do join the dating site, not really. Martha Manning, the very same that Francis Kinloch had gotten himself involved with, had told John to give it a try. They ended up close after both of them left Francis’ sorry ass, finding a strange kinship in one another that they wouldn't have traded for anything. They became fast friends after everything, and John found it especially nice to be close to someone who understood the pain he had gone through with the nasty breakup. 

Martha was back in the dating pool after a very short span of time, deciding not to let the heartache linger and hold her back. This wasn’t her first breakup, and she knew it wouldn’t be her last, but John, well…

He was finding it to be a bit more difficult to let go. 

After all, he lost more than just his boyfriend in the scuffle, he had lost his best friend. The one confidant he had no matter what, the one he could always go to. Father would never allow him to spend the night with a girl, let alone even have her over the way Francis always was. John knew as well that it was best that Father knew the least amount about Martha as possible. Otherwise, lord knew, he would try to get his eldest boy to date the girl. 

At least they could still see one another on weekends. The two were nearly closer than John and Francis had ever been (minus some key relationship closenesses, of course), John was quickly beginning to realize, and he certainly appreciated it. 

On one of their routine weekend outings, close to the end of their senior year, Martha decided to broach the topic; “John, you really need to get yourself back out there, you know? It’s not good for you to stew so long.”

“Marty, you know I can’t just do that… I have to focus on finals, I have to get ready for college.”

“Oh, so you can go and be lonely in college, too? So you can keep being too scared to get yourself out there? John, hon, I know that this hurt you, but c’mon, you can’t keep stewing on it, you gotta let it go and find someone else. You don’t even have to date, just.. _Hell,_ Jacky, just a hook up with somebody. Just to get your mind off Francis and onto someone new for a little while.”

After a while of arguing, Martha stealing John’s phone, and the extended bickering match of their attempts to set up a profile for John, came the second attempt at dating, someone he had been hooked up with nearly at random. And that hookup happened to begin as a ‘blind’ date (see: Marty chose who John would go out with) with the one and only Thomas Jefferson. 

This boy had a reputation, sure, and John absolutely knew about it, but that’s the thing about letting your best friend use dating apps in your favor, you had to trust in their judgement if you weren’t going to put a complete stop to it right away. 

Thomas had graduated when John was a Freshman. He had seen the boy around school, parading around in his gaudy clothing and cocky air. John would be lying if he said he was never fascinated by the man, or if he said that he never found Thomas attractive. The man was beautiful, _beyond_ beautiful, and he was shocked to find out that he had stayed in South Carolina after graduating. With how much he would rave about Virginia, and how much he couldn’t wait to get back there after graduating, John was astonished to find out that he hadn’t yet left. 

So after a long stint debating with himself, John let himself go. 

He waited at the restaurant for Thomas, sipping at the sweet tea that he ordered until he saw the older man step inside and sit across from him. He would lie if he said he didn’t feel his heart skip a beat. If he would have told himself freshman year that he would be going on a date with Thomas Jefferson, one of the most popular guys at his high school and hands down one of the most attractive, well… He would have thought that it was some kind of joke. Never in a million years would he have believed this. 

The man seemed to bring so much more energy into the room, something about him was just larger than life and beyond belief. John was drawn in from the second the door swung open and he entered. 

Usually John would have had some snide commentary about how the man dressed. Not many people would have the guts to go out in a magenta suit, but now that he thought about it, not many would be able to pull it off the way that Thomas was in that moment. _Wow_. 

And the way the suit hugged his frame? 

_**Wow.**_

John would definitely be lying if he told anyone that he wasn’t fascinated by the potential that stood across from him. Maybe Martha was right, maybe all he really needed was a night out and something a little self-indulgent. 

“John Laurens, my god, it’s been ages.” 

God, that slick Virginia accent was still heavy on Thomas’ tongue, and John felt a chill shoot right down his back. Holy _shit_. 

“Thomas Jefferson, what a pleasure to see you again…” He smiled and stood to meet him properly, held his hand out to shake. 

“Oh, come on now.” He opened his arms instead, urging John into a hug, which the other eagerly leaned into. John held the contact for a moment longer than he probably should have, but Thomas definitely didn’t seem to mind one bit, in fact he almost seemed reluctant to pull back as well. “It’s good to see you again, John.” 

Given, they rarely saw each other in high school: they had one art class together that Thomas was rarely ever even _in_ , but John would be wrong to deny that he would spend the majority of his class period doodling the other boy, or staring vaguely in his direction. 

He definitely couldn’t admit that, though. How embarrassing. 

Their dinner went rather well, John thought, and they caught up easily. It didn’t take them too long to catch up, John learning about Thomas’ new job (“Paralegal for a prosecutor right now, working on finishing everything up before moving out to a big city,”) and why he had ended up staying, (“This job offer was _way_ too good to pass up, and I couldn’t find anything that was even half this good in Virginia.”) and Thomas learning about John’s plans after college (“I can’t decide if I want to pursue art or medicine right now, I might do both? Father would prefer I went into medicine,”) and where he planned to go after college (“Manhattan seems like the only place I care enough about, I just need out of here.”) 

They had hit it off rather well, and John was pleasantly surprised the whole time. He definitely owed Martha for this one. 

What he didn't expect, though, was the two of them climbing into a Lyft together, and not long after for John to end up on Thomas’ lap, fingers tangled into the short tight curls. 

Things got a little too heavy for the back seat of a car, and next thing John realized, he was inside of Thomas’ frankly huge apartment, back pressed hard to the front door after it slammed shut. 

This was something that John had only _dreamed_ of, and for longer than he liked to admit, too. 

Thomas was definitely a better kisser than Francis, John knew that right off the bat. His knees were weak and just got weaker the closer Thomas pressed to him. He felt that comfortable heat beginning to pool in his lower belly as his jeans got tighter, eyes got a little foggy. 

Neither of them had much, if anything, to drink, and even in his clearheaded state, John was confused. He had wanted this deep down for years now, but to actually see it before him, a legitimate possibility?

His thoughts were led astray as Thomas started to kiss up and down John’s neck, leaving marks carelessly as his lips and teeth dragged along the sensitive skin, leaving John moaning and trembling, whimpering for more.

And really, who was Thomas to deny John what he wanted? 

~~  
The sex was meaningless. 

It wasn’t bad, necessarily, but John didn’t know if it was good, either. 

He lay beside Thomas in the oversized and overplush bed, listening to the other man’s breathing as he fell deeper into sleep. John sighed a little bit and turned over onto his side, looking at the man for a short moment before he sat up. 

John definitely wouldn’t go and say he regretted it, no, but… 

Well, he didn’t necessarily… _not_?

It just felt hollow. 

He sighed a little bit and knit his brow, forcing his body to relax back against the bed when Thomas pressed close and snuggled up to him.

He fell into a dreamless sleep, achy and exhausted with the knowledge that he would definitely need to think about all of this in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im about to head home for a while, so hopefully I'll have a little more time to write while i'm there <3 
> 
> until next time,   
> -krys


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “One QSA meeting. Just one. And I’ll leave you alone, because at least you tried."

John didn’t see Thomas again after that. 

The morning had been way too awkward for their tastes, and that spark of wonder and eagerness to be beside the other, well… It just wasn’t there when John woke up. 

He had slipped out of the room and out of the apartment before Thomas even woke (not without leaving a note pinned to the fridge; _Thanks for last night, call me sometime. -J_ ). 

He hoped Thomas wouldn’t call. 

Honest to god, he _prayed_ he wouldn’t.

By no means, though, did John regret the interaction. It really did serve to distract him from Francis, and wasn’t that all that he ultimately needed at that time? So despite how awkwardly it ended, it was, in a sense, a success. 

John honestly didn’t care that it was a meaningless fling, he was just happy to say he took the steps to get over his shitty first love. He was happy that Martha was right, and that, for some reason, he didn't stay awake at night anymore thinking about Francis, missing him, wishing things were the same. 

No, not anymore. He was okay. He was good. 

John Laurens was single, and he was loving it. 

Of course, that didn’t last. 

John, despite his desperate attempts to convince himself that he didn’t need a relationship, soon found himself in a place where all he really wanted _was_ a relationship. Go figure. He thought he could calm his racing thoughts and keep himself distracted, but when he finally settled in Manhattan, when he was _finally_ there for college, well… 

To put it simply, freshman year was a shit-show, and he had only been there for about a week. 

He could constantly hear the people in the rooms around him going at it, be it with sex, drugs, alcohol, or actual fights. Thank _god_ his father had agreed to get him a single, a roommate would have absolutely one hundred percent been the death of him, but he was quickly regretting not taking his father up on the offer of an apartment instead. 

He spent the majority of his free time and his nights (when he wasn’t working on homework) Skyping with Martha, and that was his only real solace. She had moved to her own school, somewhere in Seattle, and she seemed to be absolutely prospering. John was, admittedly, the slightest bit jealous at how easily she had settled into her new digs, settled into the QSA and the comic book club. She was just so… So _flexible_ when it came to new situations like this, John couldn’t even begin to grasp it. 

One particular night, their call went to the exact same spot as it always seemed to with them: “Just get yourself out there, Jacky, make the best of it. You’re on your own for the first time in your life, so why wouldn’t you just go for it? Join the gay club. Join the swim team again—does your university have a swim team? Just do… _Something_.”

“Martha, come on. You know I can’t do that. I’m not… Like you. I’m not just gonna blend into the crowd like that. My classmates still won’t drop the fucking accent thing. And I can’t just go sit in with the gay kids, you think my dad is angry at me for being in New York? He’ll fucking _scalp_ me if he figures out I’m hanging around the queer kids club.” He sighed a little, tugging at his curls just slightly before he started to chew on his nails. 

Martha slumped a little bit and rested her chin in the palm of her hand, eyes narrowed a little bit. “John Laurens, you know I wasn’t asking you, right? You absolutely _have to_ get yourself out there. Because it’s impossible for me to babysit your stupid ass from three time zones and nearly 3,000 miles away.” 

“2,888 miles.” John sighed a little.

Of course he knew the exact mileage, but what he didn’t know was why he felt the need to state it every time it was brought up.

Both of them did, really. They had become so close so quickly that the distance really was a shame, and it broke his heart. He mulled over those 2,888 miles until it made him sick most nights, which was why—

“Jack, _please_.” Her voice snapped him back out of his little pity party. “I know I’m the perfect friend,” Martha began, tone clearly playful to try and bring him back to himself. “But Skype dates don’t make up for a full friendship. You can’t hug someone over Skype. And I can’t smack you for being an idiot. You need to find somebody else to hang around, even if you don’t really find anyone perfect right off the bat, you know just as well as I do that you need to get out there and experience college the way you were meant to experience college. And that _isn’t_ alone in your dorm room watching porn and reading Jungian philosophy.” 

He huffed and glanced to his copy of Jung, then sighed, tempted to swat it off his desk. He barely even _liked_ the damn Psych 101 class. 

“Fine. What do I have to do to get you off my back?” He huffed, more frustrated with himself than truly upset with her. 

She smiled a little and hummed as he heard her fingers rapidly go at her keyboard, then his messenger dinged with a new notification. 

“One QSA meeting. Just one. And I’ll leave you alone, because at least you tried. But you gotta prove to me that you went somehow.” She said, sounding a little more firm than she had intended to. It was pretty common anymore for her to unintentionally break into her mom voice with him, but he really did need the guidance, poor dumb kid. 

He sighed and clicked the link, looking everything over. 

It _did_ fit into his schedule… Goddamnit. 

“Fine. Just one though. Then I have to actually focus on work and shit, unlike you, Miss ‘Education Comes Easy’.” He teased, a small smile actually returning to his lips. 

“Thank you, Jacky. I gotta go finish my paper for Poly-Phi, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She cooed and blew him a kiss, waiting for him to return it before she ended the video call. 

Next thing he knew, he found himself sitting in a small cafe on campus, his phone in his hands and _very_ closed off posture. He knew he had no real reason to be throwing a fit about this, but that wasn’t going to stop him, no. He needed to stand his ground with… Well, with himself. He didn’t want to be there, ergo, he didn’t want to let himself enjoy it. Simple as that. 

He was about twenty minutes early for the meeting, so finding solace in his phone was definitely welcoming. Scrolling mindlessly through Twitter, catching up on politics, all the things someone should avoid when getting ready for new and extensive social interactions. But of course, why would John follow any social protocols properly? Why not be in a bad mood thanks to some political bullshit? He didn’t care. 

The cafe was quickly beginning to fill with chattering students, about fifteen of them staying around the bottom floor to take in the atmosphere and wait for the meeting to begin. 

Not wanting to lose _his_ spot tucked up in the corner, John placed his backpack down and got up to check out the vending machines, getting himself an energy drink before he returned and started to sip at it nervously. 

Five minutes turned to two, two minutes turned to a hush falling over the group as someone he didn’t recognize stood up and smiled, clapping his hands together. 

“Hello everyone, welcome to the queer student alliance. I’m the president, Ben Tallmadge, he/him pronouns, biromantic asexual. We’re so excited to have you along with us this semester. So, our first order of business should be introductions, I think. Deb, thoughts?” 

He glanced to someone seated comfortably beside him, who nodded and smiled.

“Hey. I’m Deb Sampson, genderqueer—really any pronouns are good—pansexual, I guess? I don’t know. Whoever I like, I’m gay.” They snorted a bit and grinned. “I’m the vice president of the club, always happy to help out how I can if ol’ Benny fails you.” They teased and nudged the president, who laughed and nudged back. 

The introductions continued to go around until they reached someone John actually found to be interesting, a taller dark-skinned man, a little bit lanky but still vaguely muscular. Brown, almost golden eyes, silky looking dark brown hair swept to the side and gelled, just a little, and a smile to die for. 

“Mm. Alright. John Andre, uh… Cis? I guess? So he/him, all that good stuff. Gay as they come.” He gave a little mock salute, and John felt his heart flutter a bit.

 _Shit_ , he was pretty. 

John was trying his best to stare discreetly at the new eye candy sitting across the room from him, and was so distracted that the person beside him had to nudge him back to reality. 

“Oh. Oh, um. Hey. John Laurens. Gay, cis?” He bit his lip and shrugged a little bit, his gaze still down. Shit, the handsome stranger had definitely caught him staring by that point. _Way to be smooth, Laurens, you fucking idiot._

After the introductions finished up, Ben and Deb explained the purpose of the club, and John, despite his efforts, still couldn’t quite focus in on what they were saying. He really _wanted to_ , it was just so hard with such a distracting person so close to him. 

By the time the meeting had ended, they were told what the usual happenings were—dinner, then they went their separate ways. John hummed a little bit and nodded to himself, glancing at everybody before his eyes trained back onto the handsome stranger, who shared a smile with him. 

“So, are you going to dinner with us?” He asked, offering his hand to John. 

John sucked in a breath and took it, moving from his cozy perch in the corner. “Yeah, yeah… I think so.”

If the smile on John Andre’s face was anything to go by, then maybe this would be a good thing, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my c h r i s t this took me so long to work on??? and i am so sorry for that. everything is chaos but im tryin my best y'all 
> 
> hopefully i can get on the ball again?? 
> 
> until next time,   
> -krys


	4. Chapter 4

One club meeting turned into one dinner. 

Then one more dinner after that. 

That dinner turned into a date. 

That date turned into two, into three, into John staying the night in an apartment off campus more often than not. 

Andre was a great guy, as far as John could tell. 

Now, he wasn’t going to give Martha the satisfaction right off the bat—he wasn’t going to jump into it all gung-ho—“Guess where we met!”—no, but he was happy to tell her, happy to take all the cheesy couple photos with him and happy to do, well, really _anything_ that Andre asked him to do. 

John definitely jumped into things too quickly, he knew it, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He was _happy_ , so why should he ruin that for himself? 

In becoming closer to Andre, he was learning quite a bit about himself, as well. Andre was into some things that he never really got to experience with Francis or Thomas. It was a rare occasion that John didn’t go to class sporting as many hickeys as he did freckles, wearing some sort of sexy negligee under his clothes to surprise Andre when they met up again after class, and there was a surprising new introduction of _toys_ into his life that, really, he didn’t expect. 

All in all, things with Andre were great. 

At least, they seemed to be on the surface.

John did his best to make sure that he only focused on the surface. 

He stared at the calendar on his phone, namely the date that was blocked out in the coming week. He had been with Andre for nearly six months. A feeling that should have left him giddy, excited for what the weekend held for him, or at least left somewhat of a pleasant hum in his bones. 

Instead, it was anxiety thrumming through every inch of his body, making him feel sick, keeping him from sleeping, and turning conversations with Marty sourly south for the past week or two. It didn’t take too much longer for him to close out of the calendar and open his cell phone to talk everything through with Martha, as he would usually do. 

She answered on the third ring, sounding sleepy when she did. John immediately felt guilty—she must have been napping. 

“I can just call you back later,” He started, biting his lip. 

Martha yawned and hummed. “Nah, it’s alright, my alarm would have gone off in like fifteen minutes anyway. Besides, you never call without texting. What’s bothering you?” She asked softly, her tone sweet and welcoming but knowing enough that it set John on edge. It was still strange to him how easily she could read him, regardless of how long they had been close. 

“Okay, I.. God, I feel like such an asshole, Marty.” He sighed, slumping down against the wall of his room, his knees pulled close to his chest. “I just… This weekend is the six month mark with Andre.” He began to explain, but a knowing hum came from Martha before he could. 

“Has it really been that long?” She asked, trying to make it seem a little less obvious. 

“Yeah, I.. I guess it has. He wants to get together after class Friday, apparently he wants to celebrate all weekend.” John sighed lightly and started picking at a loose thread on the knee of his jeans. “I just… I’m not feeling into it. I know I’ve brought it up before, but—”

“But you still haven’t brought it up with him?” Martha interjected. 

John sighed. 

She could always read him like a book. 

“No, I.. I haven’t. I haven’t been able to, I haven’t had the chance. I can’t just—I.. I can’t just say it. But there’s just…. It’s starting to eat at me a little bit, you know? It’s not like anything is… Well, _wrong,_ but it isn’t right either? I think… He’s more into it than I am? He wants something different than me.” He whispered, keeping it just audible enough for Martha. He wasn’t necessarily trying to keep anyone from hearing him, he was just overwhelmed with the thoughts and the new opportunity to let them free. 

“I let him know right from the start, I don’t think I’m ready for anything completely serious like this. I don’t think I’m ready to settle down, or really even ready for anything beyond dating for fun? I don’t know, does that sound shitty?” 

Martha hummed. “No, you’re fine, sweetie. I don’t blame you for that. You’re trying to be true to yourself. I’m proud of you for that.” 

Hearing her say that made the weight leave his shoulders for just a second, but it came back as soon as he thought about what to say next. “He’s… He’s sweet. He’s really sweet. But I think he wants… He wants a partner who wants to get married. He wants a partner who’s ready to settle down, and.. I.. I don’t know if I am. And every time I bring it up to him, he just.. He ignores me whenever I say I’m concerned about something. He just buys me things to.. I don’t know, keep me sated? To buy my love? 

“Every time we’re together, all we do is drink and have sex. We don’t talk. We’ve never talked. We just... You know, our first non-dinner date, he took me to this weird party and got me completely blackout drunk? All I remember about it is throwing up in a stranger’s bathroom and crying in there for a few hours.” He huffed. He had never told that to Martha before. 

When he heard the noise she made—not totally approval, not entirely sympathy, he didn’t know what to really call it—he knew why he never brought it up before. 

“But he just.. I don’t know. I’ve told him I’m uncomfortable with him buying things like he does? He just ignores it, buys me something else, goes on with his day? It feels dirty. I just.. I don’t feel the same way about him that I did after that first date, and I don’t know if he can tell or not anyway? I just feel gross.” 

The receiving end of the call went silent for a moment, but the call didn’t end. 

“John, you need to… You gotta talk to him. You need to break up with him, it’s.. This isn’t healthy for either of you, you know. You’re trapped in something you aren’t ready for and he’s trying to get you to settle down because he wants something that you don’t. It’s a bad situation all around.” She sighed. “I know it won’t be easy, but just… Be mature with it. Don’t get emotional with it.” Martha whispered and sighed. “You’re going to be okay, John, just.. Do this, for you. And next weekend, I’ll find a way to Manhattan, or find a way to get you to Seattle for a best friend vacation, okay?” 

“I.. Yeah, okay. That.. That sounds perfect. Thank you, Martha.” 

~~

It took a couple of hours before John built up the courage to actually do it, but after a bit of struggling with himself and arguing back and forth with his thoughts, he finally sent a text to Andre and asked that they could meet at the coffee shop on campus. He purchased his mocha and sat in the corner of the cafe, waiting for Andre to arrive. 

John couldn’t find the words in himself to describe the anxious pit that was setting in the very bottom of his stomach. He knew that a public setting would be the best—he never knew what to expect in a situation like this. 

Damn near right on time, Andre sauntered into the cafe and ordered his own drink. He looked around once he got it, and a smile crossed his lips when he saw John in the corner. 

That just made this decision so much harder to accept, but John knew he had to do this. 

“Jacky, what’s going on? Why did you want to meet up?” Andre asked and settled across from him in the booth, raising a brow before he sipped at his drink. 

This was it. John swallowed the lump in his throat and sat up a little bit straighter. “We, uh… We need to talk about something.” He whispered lightly and bit his lip, looking up at Andre. 

Andre stayed silent, just watched John to see what would happen next. 

John sucked in a breath and knit his own brow, his foot starting to bounce underneath the table with his anxiety. “I… I think we should break up.. I can’t… You deserve better. I jumped into this too quickly, I just… I didn’t.. You and I wanted different things coming into this, and it’s… It’s selfish of me if I keep holding you in this relationship that neither of us are completely happy in.” 

Andre was silent for a moment, before a bitter smile crossed his lips. “I had a feeling this was coming.” He scoffed a little bit, his tone going flat and his empty gaze finally locking with John’s. 

“I… You really deserve so much better than me, Andre. You deserve to be with someone who loves you as much as you love them, you deserve someone who can give you everything you give them. I’m sorry I couldn’t be that person for you.” John said gently. 

“So, what. I just wasted my fucking time then?” Andre shot back, his voice cold. 

John sat back and stammered for a second. “I’m sorry you think of it like that, I… I didn’t mean to—I didn’t waste your time intentionally? I… I really loved the time we spent together, and I wish you didn’t see it as a waste, but I.. It’s better for both of us if this just… If we end it here before we both get hurt more than we already have.” 

An empty laugh left the lips of the man across from him, and it sent a chill through John. “So was this just some sort of fucking game to you or something?” 

“No, Andre, please just—I really enjoyed spending time with you. I never meant to hurt you, I never _wanted_ to hurt you. That’s why this needs to end, or we’re just going to keep hurting one another.” 

“Hurting one another? What the _fuck_ did I ever do to you, John? I never did a single fucking thing but spoil you and love you and treat you like a fucking king!” Andre snapped. 

John recoiled a little bit, especially when he realized that the people in the cafe were beginning to turn and look at them. So much for his idea, have the confrontation in public so Andre wouldn’t cause a scene. 

He couldn’t even respond before Andre was going at his throat again. “And you know what, fuck you, John. You were just playing games with me this whole fucking time, six months of my life fucking wasted because of your shit?” He huffed, standing up and grabbing his coffee again. “Fuck you. You wasted my time and you’re just going to sit here like you haven’t done a damn thing wrong? You better fucking watch your back, Laurens.” He hissed, throwing his coffee onto John before he stormed out of the cafe. 

John sat in a state of complete shock as the hot coffee (thankfully not hot enough to seriously hurt him) soaked into his sweater and through his jeans. He had told himself that this wouldn’t make him cry, that he would be fine, but he couldn’t help the tears welling up in his eyes now. 

He hesitated to reach for his phone now, a mix of shock and nervous fear shooting through him as the depth of those words finally hit him. 

_”You better fucking watch your back, Laurens.”_

What a terrifying note to end on. He bit his lip and tapped out a shaky text message to Martha, thumb hovering over ‘send’ for a moment before he hit it. 

_I think I need to get out of Manhattan for a while. When should I book my flight?_

He stared at his phone, anxiously awaiting a reply as he tried to build the courage within himself to walk out of the cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi my life is a fucking mess.   
> loosely based on recent happenings.   
> :') 
> 
> i really want to update regularly and im really sorry that i dont but let it be known that i really love you all and im sorry that i cant post updates as often as i wish i could. 
> 
> anyway hmu on tumblr or instagram (@paperthinrevolutionary) to suggest prompts or anything like that. 
> 
> until next time,   
> -krys


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m Charles Lee, by the way.”
> 
> “John Laurens. It’s great to meet you.”

His time outside of the city did him well. Spending a while in Seattle with Martha got his mind off of everything, and thankfully he hadn’t heard from Andre since the vague threat after their breakup. 

_”You better fucking watch your back, Laurens.”_

What a load of shit. 

It might have freaked him out in the moment, but when he really forced himself to relax and think about it, he knew that’s all it was—just a load of shit coming from Andre when something didn’t go his way. Sure, the biting words still hit the core of his heart, and that explosion really did set the tone of the whole relationship’s summary, but really what else was there for him to do? 

Andre had his own issues, John knew that, but he couldn’t forgive him for the shit that was said. He couldn’t forgive him for how he reacted, or the hot coffee to the face. 

He did spend a lot of his time in Seattle mulling over the fact that he had been in that relationship for six months, combing through every little thing that happened between them and every small red flag that he should have noticed in the moment. 

He and Martha fell upon their normal routine, marathoning cartoons and drinking too much, enjoying every bit of time they could spend together before they both had to go back to the real world, even though a moment in particular hit a little close to home for John. A couple of drinks in and nearly finished with their Bojack Horseman marathon, John was left nearly speechless. 

“You know, it’s funny; When you look at someone through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags.” 

The comment left an ache in his chest and a thrumming in his skull. A bit of bile burned in the back of his throat, and he forced himself to his feet. “I think I need some fresh air, Marty.” He whispered softly and bit his lip, stumbling to her patio door and slipping outside.  
He felt so stupid for letting a cartoon, especially fucking _Bojack Horseman_ , get to him like that, but as he slumped to sit on the wooden deck, fingers fumbling for the beat up pack of imported cigarettes in his pocket, he couldn’t help but think of every rose-colored red flag that he had seen in his relationships. 

Francis and Andre had given him his fair share of ticks and tendencies, but he had never really heard it put in such a way that it left his chest aching. 

_When you look at someone through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags._

Still fresh in his heart and mind was Andre’s habit of trying to buy his love, ignoring him for bouts of time then nearly _obsessing_ over him, drinking every time they got together and ignoring conversation in favor of sex, alcohol, or drugs… Sure, their short time together was fun for a while, for three or four months, but Andre would do his best to make sure they weren’t alone unless they were being intimate in some way. Even the big weekend plan he had for their six months was almost absolutely going to be spent at some shitty party with people John didn’t know (and frankly didn’t care to know). 

They really weren’t ever together in a sober mind, yet their final encounter was so bitter and biting, and everything they had together before that even resembled an argument, even just after a few weeks was shut down with the same line from Andre; “You can’t do this to me, I love you.” 

Even if it wasn’t John’s fault. 

‘You can’t do this to _me. I_ love you.’ 

His hands shook a little as he withdrew a cigarette from the pack, holding it between his lips as he fumbled for a lighter in his other pocket. Even with the first inhale, the nicotine calmed his nerves almost right away. He knew his rushing outside must have concerned Martha, but the air and nicotine combined helped him relax more than he ever expected it to. 

He was only in Seattle for about two weeks when it all came to it, but it was the best two weeks in his recent memory. He was finally coming back to himself, and was convinced he could handle himself in New York again. With a tearful goodbye, he left Marty again, promising that they would be with one another again soon, but this time Martha would come to hang out with him in New York. It had been some time since she’d come to see him, anyway. 

When he settled back in New York it took him some time, but he forced himself into a routine again and made himself go to the club once more. After the breakup, Andre had stopped attending, and John knew that was for the best. He would be lying, too, if he said he wasn’t thankful for the disappearance.  
A new semester came and went, and he managed to find himself in a rather comfortable position with everyone in the club. He was getting closer to almost all of the members, and by the time the spring semester rolled around again, he was nearly in charge of the club. 

At the first meeting of spring, there were a few new faces, but none stuck out to him as much as the slightly anxious newcomer that shoved himself into the corner, only spoke up when spoken to. When John glanced over to him, he gave a soft smile and a small wave, and John’s heart skipped a beat. He smiled right back, quickly relocating himself to the other’s side. 

“Hey, you doin’ alright? You don’t look too happy to be here.” John chuckled and smiled sweetly. 

The other laughed softly. “I mean, I do wanna be here, but it’s a bit more crowded than I expected. The pride club at PhilaU wasn’t even half this size.” He explained softly, hand raising up to push back his plume of black hair, knocking it away from his eyes the best that he could. 

“You transferred over, then?” John smiled and cocked his head.

“Yeah, I used to be a biochem student, but it just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Wasn’t makin’ me happy, all that good stuff. I transferred over for photojournalism.” He explained, then quite awkwardly offered his hand to John. “I’m Charles Lee, by the way.”

“John Laurens. It’s great to meet you.” 

~~

Charles and John grew close quickly, texting nonstop and becoming inseparable when the club would meet every week. They always sat together, sharing hushed whispers and giggles the whole meeting, and within the first quarter of the semester, the two found themselves going on a date. 

All things considered, John was still a little skittish, but once Charles relaxed and let himself open up around the other, they seemed to be growing into a wonderful relationship. John would argue easily that part of the reason they did so well was the fact that they never took things too seriously, and never really tried to label it. 

Their adventures became more frequent from then on, going out to movies, dinner, even simple little coffee dates or walks in the parks nearly every day of the week. They’d meet up frequently between classes, and during the club meetings they would snuggle effortlessly into one another. 

Charles developed the habit of tracing the freckles on John’s skins, occasionally following his lines with ballpoint pens and declaring a new constellation on John’s body. Their intimate moments carried the same delicate poetry, but remained effortless and undeclared. Both of them heavily benefitted from the situation, and though their connection was unmistakable, neither man ever regretted leaving their arrangement undefined. The freedom to be able to sleep around still kept John from feeling panicked about getting cheated on, and kept them both satisfied if they couldn’t be together, too. 

As the weeks passed by, the happiness the two shared seemed unparalleled. John’s entire family and Marty all noticed, as well, commenting on the newfound glow John seemed to have. After so much trouble with relationships, John deserved this break. He deserved the happiness. Charles was sensitive to his past issues, or what little of them John was comfortable sharing.  
The pair spent most of their weekends together out bar hopping and adventuring, and on this particular Saturday they found themselves in a small, somewhat dive-y gay bar, snuggled together in a booth in the back. John had been pounding Jack and Coke, and Charles had lost count of the Cosmopolitans that had touched the table, but they were happy, they were warm and content, and they were loving the company of one another. 

Of course, that could only last so long. John had promised himself that he wouldn’t let himself stay out too late, he knew he had to catch up on his classwork the following day and at least try to get sleep before his classes Monday.  
As his part of the evening simmered to a close, he leaned back into Charles and finished his last drink. Clearly it was going to be a struggle for him to get up, but he knew it was time for him to go home. 

He whined a bit and tipped his head back, kissing along Charles’ jaw gently. “Help me get up and pay the tab?” He whined lightly. It wasn’t like the other man had many of his wits about him, either, but the two could definitely support one another—at least to the bar, maybe out front until John could call his Lyft. 

Charles helped him stand, both men dissolving into giggles when they stumbled over one another and reached for the table for purchase. The giggles faded into a couple of sweet kisses as they got one another upright again, then arm in arm stumbled to the bar.  
John reached for his wallet and slapped down enough cash on the counter to cover their tab and the tip. He smiled and tugged Charles out of the bar, leaning in to kiss him again and again before fumbling for his phone. 

“Are you comin’ back with me, babe?” He asked, savoring the taste of cranberry and triple sec on Charles’ lips and tongue. It definitely didn’t mix too well with Jack Daniels and Coke, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. It was Charles, and that’s what mattered. 

Charles hummed against John’s lips, then nipped the lower one. “I think I’m gonna hang out a little while longer, I’m not quite ready for bed and I know you need to rest. Don’t wanna keep you up.” He chuckled. 

John whined just a little bit, but surrendered and nodded. He went a bit slack, resting himself completely against Charles, and nestled against his cheat. “Okay, promise me you’ll be safe? And lemme know when you get home?” He requested, looking up at Charles with a pout after ordering his ride. 

Charles laughed again and nodded, kissing his forehead. “Of course. I’ll let you know when I leave and when I get home.” He promised, words barely slurring as he spoke. 

As the ride arrived, they shared a few more kisses before John stumbled into his car, then blew kisses and waved as they left. He watched Charles stumble back into the bar, sure he was going to order his umpteenth Cosmo. As much as John wanted to be there, he was trying to keep himself from staying in the same routine, drinking too much, not sleeping, ignoring homework until the very last minute.  
Considering the winning streak he seemed to be on, he may as well try some self betterment, too.

~~

Charles let John know about an hour later that he had met up with one of John’s friends at the bar, and that they were getting along quite nicely. John looked at his phone, a little hazy but sobering slowly, and sent back a response; _’Have fun, see u tomorrow for dinner <3’_

He was having trouble sleeping, so after a few cups of tea, he curled up on his couch to watch whatever awful show happened to be on, and it helped him doze off at least a little. 

It was around 3:30 AM when the texts lit up his phone. He didn’t recognize the number at first, but the bitter contents of the message let him know well enough who it was. 

_‘Hey Jacky, long time no talk.’_  
‘I just wanted to let you know,’  
‘ATTACHMENT: 1 Image’  
‘Your boyfriend looks great with my cock in his mouth.’ 

John felt his skin go pale and his stomach tense when he saw the photo. He could barely even register it before he had to rush into his bathroom, losing the contents of his stomach and continuing to dry heave when he did. 

He knew better than to think he was safe from Andre’s shitty actions, but this, he didn’t expect. 

How could he have?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey im so sorry this took so long. graduation and job hunting have not been doing me any favors mentally. this feels rushed, but im glad i got it out. based (somewhat loosely) on true events that have sort of left me numb. this is such a hardcore vent fic hhhh
> 
> thank y'all for sticking around, though, it means the world. i'm working on the last two parts of this and some self indulgent fic as well, so hopefully those will come soon. thank you for the comments, kind words, and kudos, and i promise i'll stop hurting john (in this fic) soon. <3 
> 
> -krys


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe his mind wasn’t ready for whatever boys Hercules had in mind, but looking at his reflection, the rest of him definitely was

The events that night haunted John, but despite the pain it caused he was able to sit down and talk to Charles about it. Their friendship wasn’t hurt by the incident—John had never been so explicit in his traumas to Charles, anyway, and he couldn’t blame Charles for going home with the other. 

Charles had explained to John what had happened; the man had approached him after seeing the two together, and he had introduced himself as a friend of John’s. The two went back to the bar and shared a few drinks, some laughs, and before he knew it, Andre had invited Charles back to his place. Andre explained to the other that John would like the photos, that he and John were in a similar sort of relationship and that the photos would be a welcomed surprise. Charles apologized almost profusely to John after the fact, but there were no hard feelings. John understood what happened after the explanation, realized how terrible Andre truly was, and he just wanted things to return to normal. 

Their intimacy changed after that, though. John felt more uncomfortable with the touches and kisses after that. Every time they would get close, John could feel Andre’s touch on him, see it on Charles. Whenever their lips met, he couldn’t fight the memories of what Andre had done with Charles. It took some time, but their intimacies faded into something John was comfortable with again, cuddles and hand-holding, occasional kisses (never too intense, soft pecks and reassurances), and Charles went on to find himself a serious boyfriend. One who was okay with the intimate friendship between Charles and John. 

After everything had happened, when John confided in Charles the whole truth of his relationship with Andre, and why that had hurt him so badly, the two grew closer. Charles felt more comfortable and confident in sharing his own past with John after everything, as well. As horrible as it may have seemed, John would say that in a strange way it was good for them. 

The shift was unusual at first, going from intimacy to nearly none to Charles having a boyfriend, but John started to love the new member of his friend circle just as much and as easily as he had come to love Charles. 

Sam was a timid boy, from a strict and stoic religious upbringing. He was finally able to find his freedom when he moved to go to college, and though he was a year or two Charles’ junior, he showed no lack of intelligence or maturity. He was good when it came to a battle of wits, clever and all around pleasant to be near. He was never one to shy away from the potential chaos of the group. 

After everything that had happened, though, John seemed to isolate himself for some time. He began frequenting a bar closer to where he lived, rather than the ones he and Charles would often go to. In this, though, he was able to find someone new to bring into their strange circle of friends. 

The man was a bit older than him, much stronger and bulkier, but he truly had a heart of gold. Now, sure, that was the job of a bartender, but after a few stops by the place and real conversation, one thing turned to another and John found himself sitting in a small cafe, across from one Hercules Mulligan. 

One breakfast “date” turned to two, to five, to a weekly occurrence, every Sunday morning. They went around ten, just late enough to sleep in but still early enough that they would miss the church crowds pouring out. Their meetings helped John restructure his schedule and, frankly, get his shit together.   
Herc was an amazing friend to John, and provided as much warmth and companionship as he could have needed, but there were no commitments, no benefits. It wasn’t the relationship he had with Charles, but it somehow felt just as strong. The two became conjoined at the hip for some time, with Hercules there to help John with whatever was ailing him, and John to help Hercules figure out how to flirt with whoever he may have been going after at the time. They had equal luck on the relationship front, John soon discovered, but Hercules seemed to attract sweeter people. Something always seemed to go awry, but they always remained friends after the breakup. John honestly thought it was just because it was impossible to hate Herc. 

After a particularly melancholy breakup, John and Herc settled into their usual booth in the small cafe. Herc was less than jovial that morning, a little achy and brooding from the loss of his most recent partner, this one the daughter of the state senator. 

They had broken up mutually, but John was sure that didn’t make it any easier.

The girl, Angelica Schuyler, decided it best to break off the relationship with Hercules when she chose to go out of state for grad school. They had weighed the pros and cons of the decision, and wrestled with the idea of a long distance thing for quite a while, but they had concluded that the most mature thing for the couple was to break it off, maybe pick back up when school was over if Angelica felt so inclined to come back from California. 

“I just don’t know, man,” Herc sighed, lifting the large mug of coffee (two hazelnut creamers and one Stevia packet) to take a long sip. “I know we’re making the right choice here, but it seems like a cop-out to not give long distance a shot? I think the two of us work really well together.” 

John squinted at him a little bit, trying to get a better read on him than the obvious through his mild hangover headache. “Well, if you know it’s the right choice, that’s all you have to tell yourself, isn’t it? Let her go off on her grand adventure, and if it’s meant to be, she’ll come back or you’ll go to California, wasn’t that the plan? If you love something, set it free, and all that good shit?” 

Hercules rolled his eyes and sighed. “Don’t pull those dad quotes out now, Laurens, you know I don’t wanna hear them,” He grumped. Despite the denial of it he had a small smile trying to play the corner of his lips. “I know, and you know I know, but knowing doesn’t make it easier, you know?” 

“Can you throw in just one more ‘you know’ for good measure, there?” John teased, smiling before taking a long drink of his own coffee (Irish, nothing like hair of the dog for breakfast). 

“Oh, fuck you.” Herc finally laughed, flicking an empty creamer container towards the other. 

John held his hands up in mock defense, laughing a bit and flicking it back. “Really though, I get where you’re coming from, but as long as you can keep that thought in the front of your mind, you’re good. Just remind yourself it’s for the best, you both decided on it after a civil conversation, and that even if you aren’t _together_ , she’s still your friend, right?” He offered, fingers tapping softly on the handle of his mug. “And as long as she’s your friend, you’ve got her right there.” 

He leaned over the table, tapping a finger against Hercules’ broad chest and giving a cheesy grin. 

“You aren’t getting rid of her, and she isn’t getting rid of you. it’s just… Different now, you know?” 

Hercules took a moment and sighed, nodding his head a little bit and sipping his drink again. “Yeah, yeah. She can’t get rid of my ass that easily, right?” He said, his smile breaking through and becoming a bit more… Real, leaving the saddened undertone it had behind. “Besides, she already invited me to her going away party next weekend. And I was kinda wondering if you wanted to go. I know you’ve been wanting to get out there and meet new people, and there are a few going that I think you’d really enjoy.” 

John seemed a little taken by the offer, not expecting it in the slightest. 

He had met Angelica once or twice, and seen her sisters in passing, but he never expected to be going to her going away party. 

“Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?” He asked, slow and steady because of his confusion. 

Hercules just laughed and nodded. “Yeah, man. She enjoyed hanging around you, she wanted to see you again before she took off for Los Angeles. Thinks a party will do you good, too. Besides, who are you to turn down free booze at a fully catered open-bar event?” 

It was John’s turn to laugh, remembering the weird shows of wealth that came with being the child of a senator. He just escaped it much sooner than any of the Schuyler girls. Never found comfort in it, but maybe they did. Who was he to judge, after all.

“Sure, man. But you’re paying for my Lyft.”

~~

The pair had just over a week to get ready for the party, and in that time Hercules absolutely _insisted_ that John get a new outfit. 

They took a couple of thrift shop and fabric shop runs, grabbing bits and pieces each of them liked before Hercules started flipping through his patterns and designs. This was a new development to John, they’d never really spoken about too many hobbies before, but the realization that Hercules could design make clothing, and _enjoyed it_ , was a fantastic thing. 

John watched him with rapt attention as he worked, cutting bits of the fabric and sticking them together for a couple moments—tugging them apart and doing it all over again, until he found a perfect combination.   
Or, well. That’s what John assumed had happened. He wasn’t really following, and he knew fuck-all about fashion anyway. Judging by the look on Herc’s face, though, it was what he wanted. 

By the end of the evening, Hercules had stitched a patchwork sport coat for himself, and started work on something for himself as well.

John watched him almost with hearts in his eyes, absolutely taken by the passion that Hercules was showing for what he was doing. John adored being surrounded by such enthusiasm for anything artistic, and to find someone who shared such a strong passion as he did warmed him beyond words. He was perfectly content, eager to watch his friend work the entire time. He left Hercules’ studio apartment with his cozy new sport coat on, hugging him in all the right places and ways as he made his way back home. 

The party was in just under twenty-four hours. Anxiety bubbled in John’s chest and throat—not over seeing the Schuyler girls, but at the memory of what Herc had said. _“There are a few people going that I think you’d really enjoy.”_

What did Herc have in mind, and what kind of people could John be meeting? Was he just going to meet friends, or did one of his most trusted confidants plan on trying to hook him up? Sure, maybe a rebound wouldn’t hurt, but did he really _want_ one? And was he ready for one? But then again, John trusted Hercules with his life. So regardless of whether he was going to meet potential friends, potential lovers, or maybe just a one-night-stand, he could trust that Herc would introduce him to someone nice.

A few more friends could do him good, right? 

Most of the night wasted away in an anxious flurry, and after a couple of drinks John finally convinced himself to settle down and go to sleep. He managed to stay so until late in the morning, practically the afternoon. He lazed away the rest of the day until he got his two hour warning text from Hercules, and declared it time to get ready. 

He let the water in the shower burn his skin at first, tolerating the sting until it became pleasant, and washed himself with the sweetest smelling soap he had, a subtle almost summery musk, but one of his favorites. Brushed teeth, brushed hair, applied toiletries and slight cosmetics, and by the time Hercules was on his way, John was ready to go out for the evening (but not necessarily ready for what the evening could have in store). 

Before walking out to meet him, John took a short snippet of a moment to admire himself in the mirror. The bit of highlighter he had put on made his freckles pop even more, and the small bit of eyeliner thankfully retracted from the slight bags under his eyes (classes were getting stressful this close to the summer). The perfectly tailored jacket held onto his frame perfectly, leading into a pair of dark denim skinny jeans tucked into a pair of second-hand military styled leather boots. If he did say so himself, he looked pretty damn good. 

Maybe his mind wasn’t ready for whatever boys Hercules had in mind, but looking at his reflection, the rest of him definitely was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bitch we back 
> 
> sorta. 
> 
> im not abandoning this its just taking a while to get done bc of jobs and the like. thank u all for sticking around this long! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, this is just kind of a goofy idea that popped into my mind when I was listening to Kinky Boots for the umpteenth time, and you know how I am, always eager to hurt my boy. 
> 
> So here we are, with some more pain for my son and some interesting shit that i'll be throwing out just to see what sticks. 
> 
> wish my boy luck on his awful dating adventures.
> 
> until next time,  
> -krys


End file.
